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Updated: June 27, 2025
At the very moment when the English fancied that we were in the most awkward situation from the mutiny of some troops, General Washington sent a detachment on the left side of the Hudson, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Hull, supported by General Parsons, which surprised, at Westchester, a corps of three hundred men under Colonel Delancey, wounded several, killed thirty, took sixty prisoners, burnt all the barracks and provisions, and retired, after having destroyed a bridge of communication with the Island of New York.
As the months went by I began to be horribly afraid that Delancey's novel would be very, very long indeed. And even if nobody read it through, not even a reviewer, I should have to without skipping a word or a comma. "The sentences," Delancey told me, "are rather long. I find the semicolon very useful for cumulative effects." A vast array of words policed by semi-colons. I felt a little dizzy.
A minute later, he, John Stuyvesant Schuyler, Thomas Cathcart Blake, the captain of "The Idlesse," and two sailors were in the launch.... They reached the side of the knockabout as Blake and Kathryn were dragging Jack Schuyler from the water; and they took him into the other boat. Blake, in his father's clutch, followed. At the same time, Dr. DeLancey leaned over to grasp Kathryn.
"Then I must, sir," returned Guly, firmly; "I can never sacrifice principle to profit, under any circumstances." "You're a fool," said Delancey; pale with anger at the firm but mild demeanor of his clerk. "How much would the sale have amounted to?" "Thirty-five dollars." "It shall be taken from your salary. Teach you better another time." "Very well, sir.
Delancey, Arthur is too ill to remain longer in his place; he must give up until he can get better. He has remained here too long this morning already, with the symptoms of cholera about him." "Well, he's a fool for that," muttered the merchant, in reply, with much of his old manner; "I should suppose he was old enough to know that he must give up when he's sick.
With no resources, not even a loving wife with a wash tub, he lives a life of perfect ease and idleness. He doesn't even have to hunt for means of killing time, as DeLancey does. Time with him dies a natural death. He is not implicated in the sad event in any way. All he does is to watch its demise. He watches whole hours pass away while leaning against the door-frame of the Delmonico Hotel.
Delancey would never get as good a clerk as you again, or one that would be as faithful, and remain with him so long. But does being here a few years make any difference about going to church?" "I'm afraid you'll find so." "How can you spend so much unoccupied time without church, Wilkins?" said Guly, earnestly, stepping up on the chair round, and seating himself quietly on the head clerk's knee.
Whereat they all laughed. And from then on, they were themselves. They were met by her mother at "The Lawns," and by Dr. DeLancey. Dr. DeLancey was not bashful. He pinched her glowing cheek and looked her over, critically. "A positive symposium of pulchritude," he declared. "I wish I were fifty or seventy-five years younger, by Jove!
The object of this journey you understand. I stayed at Mr. Willett's three days, and then went to Colonel Morris's, and spent two days there very agreeably. Nothing occurred worth relating, unless it be some transactions of the greatest fool I ever knew. "Mr. Elliot, collector of New-York, Mr. and Mrs. Delancey and daughter, dined there on Sunday.
If you take my advice, you'll take your meals here, too," said Wilkins, assuming a very patronizing air, as he rang the little table bell for the waiter. Arthur thanked him for his kindness, and asked him when they would probably see Mr. Delancey. "He's only in the store from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon," replied Wilkins. "You will see him shortly after we get back there."
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